The big picture, by its nature, is tricky to grasp. In an age of melting ice caps and deadly heatwaves, surprisingly few musicians have tackled the calamity awaiting us. But through his increasingly unclassifiable albums, American electronic musician Daniel Lopatin – AKA Oneohtrix Point Never – has been edging towards the precipice for a closer look. His latest, Age Of, is a dizzying synthesis of the concepts he has been toying with since his 2013 album R Plus Seven: high-definition computer music, abstract in shape yet piercingly emotional. Age Of, according to Lopatin, is imagined as the sentimental musings of some advanced artificial intelligence looking back on the follies of humanity. The album evolved from a “concertscape” called Myriad, which Lopatin brings to London on a sticky summer night.

The multimedia performance is set against a backdrop of Nate Boyce’s grotesque CGI visuals and hanging sculptures, which loom like aborted HR Giger monsters. Lopatin is flanked by pianist Kelly Moran, drummer and percussionist Eli Keszler, and Aaron David Ross, who plays an array of cinematic synths and special effects They pull off a jaw-dropping performance: a faithful yet fluid rendition of an album that, on record, seems laden with computer-assisted compositional quirks no human could master.

Lopatin’s band operate in blinding high-definition as they work through almost every track from Age Of, interspersed with brief, scrambled messages that seem to emanate from the ghoulish sculptures. With virtuosic skill, Moran replicates the knotty neo-baroque melodies of Toys 2 and Age Of, while the glittering chug of Warning harks back to one of Lopatin’s deepest influences, Tangerine Dream. Keszler’s unorthodox drum kit produces cloudbursts of rhythm, as if he was playing a prepared piano. These vivid, top-end details are ballasted by Lopatin and Ross’s thunderous electronics, which unlock the space’s full potential on Same and a seismic We’ll Take It. For an extra twist of surrealism, a troupe of dancing cowgirls rodeo-kick their way around the room during the melancholy outpouring of Black Snow, one of Lopatin’s rare vocal performances. On Babylon, too, his Auto-Tuned warble is tender and affecting – a digital tool adding a human touch.

They end on a cover of British freak-folk singer Bill Fay and his cosmically attuned Never Ending Happening (“Just to be a part of it is astonishing to me / The never ending happening”) before dipping into the back catalogue for an encore of Child of Rage and the crowd-pleasing epic Chrome Country.

Oneohtrix Point Never: Age Of review – a subversion of expectations

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Lopatin’s unpredictable blend of digital and acoustic sound has drawn comparisons with the Fourth World exotica of Brian Eno and Jon Hassell. Those artists used the cutting-edge technology of the 1980s to imagine a world of infinite connections across time and space, yet Lopatin’s vision is less utopian. Age Of is the sound of overload, of data dumps and leaking landfill, of the Anthropocene: the moment when our presence on Earth leaves irreparable geological scars. But where his collaborator Anohni (who adds soaring vocals to several Age Of tracks) warned of environmental collapse in the bleakest terms on her recent album Hopelessness, Lopatin seems more awestruck than alarmed about humanity’s spectacular own goal. He wrings every ounce of emotional resonance from these abstract arrangements, and there is something deeply human about his ability to grasp the sublime in our moment of implosion.